Magnus at Hogwarts
by zan11111
Summary: Magnus goes to Hogwarts in search of Dumbledore, what mischeif will he create...
1. Chapter 1

_What the hell is he doing? _I asked myself as I helped Magnus re-dye his hair ebony black. He had donned a black cloak and was working on charming himself to give himself a younger appearance. He had overheard a heated debate between a pair of downworlders about who would win in a fight, _Magnus Bane _or _Albus Dumbledore_. He had questioned them where he could find this Dumbledore, and they replied _Hogwarts_.

**I know this is VERY short, but it is just setting up for the rest of the story. Hope you will like them!**


	2. Chapter 2

His robes fluttered behind him like ravens in flight. Dark hair clipped around his ears, no trails of glitter linger in it. Other students paled in comparison to his miniscule grandeur. _Tonight is the night_, he thought deviously, _Finally, I shall meet Albus Dumbledore._

"Good evening," Albus' voice boomed, assisted by the power of his wand. A mangy hat rested on oak seat, a crease crumpling its diameter. His speech was quick, but doubtful, despite his experience. He seemed worried, but that didn't matter. Worry meant love, love meant weakness, as Jace always stated. He was sure as hell going to die. Traces of gingery brown hair remained; the rest aged a silvery grey. "Alexander Kale," he requested. I strode to the podium, of course I had been called first, it was as I wished. Expecting him to shake my hand, give me a badge, or some other ceremonial shit, it surprised me when he placed the old hat on my young head. _Lice!_ I thought briefly, but the thought of pests were exterminated when the hat began to speak. Yes. Speak. A 'what the fuck' moment that I barely managed to keep my composure for.

"Well," It paused, "I don't quite know where to put you. RAVENCLAW!" its wavering voice screeched, "mudblood." Of course, I had no idea what the hell any of this meant, so I wandered back to my seat, children shouting I'm going the wrong way. I spun on my heel and marched to a table below a navy blue and grayish brown flag. The list of names dragged on forever, but when it was over, I was ushered like cattle, out of the 'great hall'.

They dragged me to a seemingly abstract painting that began to speak to me. No, not figuratively. Two parallel lines bent and ebbed with every syllable. "_What goes on four legs in the morning, on two legs at noon, and on three legs in the evening?" _Sphinx. Simple, "A man, I recited, "who crawls on all fours as a baby, walks on two legs as an adult, and walks with a cane in old age." The painting, along with the herd of children collectively gasped as I strode into the lavishly draped dorm room. A gorgeous outlook of suddenly appearing mountains overwhelmed a majority of the view beyond the sparkling glass plate. The autumn sun was slowly crawling underneath the shadowed horizon. I slid onto my bunk and pulled out a quill and some parchment. What the hell happened to a simple pen and paper? I wish I knew.

_Dear Alec,_ I scrawled on the thick grainy page.

_I miss you so much. The 'wizards' here seem to be completely incapable of doing anything for themselves. They couldn't even figure out the riddle of the Sphinx. Sphinx! I mean come on! I was 'sorted' into a 'house' that's just a holocaust camp in disguise. The bunks smell rancid and I've just found a peanut on my pillow. I'm in Ravenclaw. I think it's because of my hair. I told you you should've dyed it blonde. Well, I am tired, so I think I might sleep. _

_ Sincerely Yours,  
>Magnus<em>

I signed my name with a flourish and sealed the letter with a kiss. And some tape. I snapped my finger and the post vanished. I lay down on the spring mattress, the down feather pillow collapsing under my head. Apparently the painting door had closed behind me, for no boys rested on their beds. I sprang up from my bunk and onto my feet, hearing my hairspray crunch back to its new length. Sighing, I grabbed a towel and wandered to the bath house. A translucent looking woman sat on the ivory bench wrapped in a plush towel. Her hair was in a gorgeous up do, seeming untouched by the water that fell down the rest of her body.

"Hello," her voice was like silk. I just stared openmouthed at her porcelain face. "Hello?"

I shook myself out of a self induced stupor and said, "Hello." Her dark ebony lashes curled up around her striking grey eyes. A strand of mahogany hair dangled down her neck, and she was holding a diamond pin, attempting to puzzle it back into her hairpiece. "Here," I offered, "let me help."

She closed the pin in her slim hand. "No," I offered my hand out for it anyway, "Well," she pondered, "okay." I spun around her and began to pull up the hair.

"So who are 'ou?" She quarreled in a slight Russian accent, her eyes widening.

"I think I should be asking the same thing," I stated, her mouth pressed into a hard line, "I'm Alexander."

"No 'our not," the girl stated, "Magnus."

"How?" I started.

"High warlock of Brooklyn, nice parties, illicit relationship with a shadowhu-"

"How do you know that?" I was becoming more worried. No one knew about Alec save for a few choice exceptions.

"I know," she whispered, "I would think that as an immortal, you would too understand that knowing things," she paused, "would help along with many things in life." I flew back into my quarters, shedding my dark robes, midnight hair barely ruffling in the swift breeze. Stopping myself before I flung myself onto the plush bed, I spun and strode back into the bath house.


	3. Chapter 3

She wasn't there. With every turn of a corner, I became even more cautious. Stripping off my wool turtleneck, I shuffled into the steamy shower, where she sat waiting.

"Hello there Magnus," she whispered, Studying my tousled hair and disheveled appearance. I grabbed for my trousers, but she waved me off. "There is no need for worry around me, I am simply an apparition." She reached for the chrome shower head, and her hand passed seamlessly through it. "You mustn't be afraid of me, I am not a player in your world anymore, simply an observer." Her beautiful accent had become more pronounced, revealing itself as something more unique, Czechoslovakian maybe. I longed to find out.

"You must excuse me madam, But-"

"Leanna, call me Lena if you wish," she requested.

"Leanna, I simply have to take a shower, so if you would kindly," I gestured toward the tile-rimmed door frame. "Thank you and goodbye."

****

_Dear Izzy,_

_Can I call you Izzy? I feel that we are that close. So Izzy, There is this woman, an apparition that refuses to leave my bathtub. Not that I am complaining, but it is an inconvenience, considering I cannot spell myself clean for fear of being discovered. So I must meet with you immediately to discuss this persistent matter. Meet me at the docks at sunrise. _

_ Sincerely Yours,_

_ Magnus Bane. _


	4. Chapter 4

_Dumbledore_ I repsyched myself. These persistent distractions had taken a toll on me, mentally and physically. Dark bruises lowlighted my darkened eyes unpleasantly. My shower had turned out to be more of a sponge bath, considering the showerhead was rusted beyond use. At least I had discovered a charm for my term papers, which were worse than any curse.

I attempted to talk myself out of it as I wandered the dark corridors, hoping for an ornery teacher to spot me. I ran my reddened knuckle along the golden framed paintings, praying to arouse a particularly fussy model. My wool robes drifted over the stone flooring, swooshing across them as I moved. Echoes clambered around me, originating from my deliberately heavy footfalls. A dark figure emerged from the shadows, silent, but obviously heading directly toward me. I rushed to the center of the hall, impossible to not be seen. The man was clearly heavily intoxicated. He bound with a clumsy swagger, hands dangling limply at his sides.

"Get-" he stuttered blindly, "get out of my way y-you gay bastard."

****

Dumbledore's office was everything that I had expected. Dark wood, candy jars, and even a bird that seemed to be incapable of restraining itself from squawking after every syllable that we spoke. The man himself was a whole different story. He rested in a wood stained rocking chair, hands behind his surprisingly unwrinkled face. He even seemed to have a sense of humor.

"Alexander," He said, holding back a smile, "as you may learn, here at Hogwarts, students are involved in many things, to occupy themselves. This keeps you from engaging in harmful activities, however infrequent." A balding professor, somewhat sober, held a raw slab of meat to hid rapidly blackening eye. "You might want to try out for Quittitch," He began chuckling, A grin festering on his ivory face, "you'd make a good beater." Quickly gaining his composure, he spoke to me seriously. "This is no minor offense, and for that, unfortunately you must be punished. Fifty points from Ravenclaw, and detention with me, for a week." He sighed, "This is a warning, Mister Kale. It shan't happen again." I wanted to kill him. I did not. Not that far. Maim possibly, but trust me, he will not get off with a warning.


	5. Isabelle Interlude

"Fucking muggle shit," Magnus warbled, trying to detach his patent leather dress shoe from a spurge of sidewalk weeds. He shifted his lime green blazer and gazed at me, "Why hello there Isabelle. Crucio." The vine recoiled as if it was a struck animal, browning and finally collapsing on the dusty blacktop.

"I see you are learning something at that prison," I observed.

"That," he corrected, his magic born projection wavering in the swift autumn wind, "I learned off of the internet."

I nodded, hiding a grin, "so why am I here?"

"First, I needed to know what empire has collapsed without me." He overdramatized, "losing the High Warlock of Brooklyn for a whole day must have caused high terror, a global depression, earthquakes," he began to study his short clipped nails, "tsunamis…" His contact, colored eyes snapped to attention, "Anyway, I need to ask you what to do about her. The apparition. She has become quite a pest to me." I opened my mouth, yet he kept on speaking, "I trust that you can do something for me. Goodbye, Izzy." He disappeared with a _pop, _leaving the wavering, tart sweet scent of Grapefruit in his place.

"Isabelle," I corrected with a smile on my face, "ass."


End file.
